Hold Me Tight
by bubblesquirt
Summary: Excerpt: Flashing hazard lights caught Sam's attention. The dirty blonde in the short jean shorts and bright blue tank top caught Dean's.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I am not making any money from this.

Author Note: This is my first fan fiction story, so please be gentle with me. I'll explain how it came to me at the end. Because don't we all wish we could be rescued at some point or another by our two very handsome and capable boys.

Also, I don't have a beta or anything so any and all errors are mine.

* * *

"It's a simple question." 

"Why are you bothering me with this?"

"Because I'm bored. Now come on. Don't be embarrassed."

"God, Dean. I don't – Hey… what's that?"

Flashing hazard lights caught Sam's attention. The dirty blonde in the short jean shorts and bright blue tank top caught Dean's.

Dean smiled as he pulled off to the side of the highway behind the black Jetta, all four of its doors wide open.

"Damsel in distress. Nice." Dean wiggled his eyebrows at his younger brother and shouldered open the impala's door.

The girl was moving cautiously around the car, an aerosol bottle tight in one hand, a white handkerchief in the other. She was so intent in her search, she didn't notice the guys walk up behind her, until Dean reached out and tapped her shoulder.

Her wavy blonde hair whipped around as she whirled and nearly screamed in Dean's face.

"Oh my God!" Her tear streaked cheeks, accompanied with her high squeak signaled her distress level.

"It's in there! Please just kill it!"

Both boys went on alert instantly, hunter's instincts turned on.

"Sam go get-" But Dean didn't need to finish as Sam was already running back to their trunk. He pulled out a sawed off shotgun, that contained rock salt, hoping it would do the job.

He jogged back to where Dean was holding a near sobbing girl, and tossed him the shotgun. Dean traded him for the chick, and after looking down with a little disgust and wiping at the tear stains on his shirt, he told Sam to stay back.

Sam gave him the look that said to be careful and turned his attention back to the trembling girl in his arms.

"Shh, shh, it's ok. What's wrong? Can you tell me what happened?"

The girl's mouth opened and closed, soundlessly, a few times before she could reply. To Sam she looked a little like a fish, but he figured she was a little too traumatized at the moment to think that was funny.

"I was just driving..." Sniffle. "And... and that's when I saw it." Cough. Deep breath. Sniff.

Sam's face scrunched up in sympathy as he tried to get the girl to open up, and be a little more specific.

"What? What did you see?" He pried gently. That's when he noticed the bottle gripped in her hand. "What's..?"

He tried to touch it, but the girl jerked her hand back, shaking her head.

"No! I.. I need this. She told me.. She told me that it would stop it. That it couldn't.. move if.. if I sprayed it."

As she brought the can closer to her body, into the flashing lights, Sam could read the label:

**Paul Mitchell**

**Hold Me Tight**

**Hairspray**

"What the..?" Sam's eyebrows crinkled together with confusion as he tried to get her attention, but her wide eyes were trained on Dean. Trained on Dean, and his gun.

"What is he doing? Why does he..Where did he get a _gun_??" Her raised voice reached Dean, and he turned from his investigation of the crime scene.

Sam caught her wrist as she tried to push him away, causing the hair spray bottle to drop to the concrete.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, as she wiggled her arm, pulling against the restraint.

Sam raised eyebrows at his brother, and Dean came running toward them, causing the girl to go into hysterics.

"No! No, please don't. Please just let me go.." She pleaded as Dean slowed down, shotgun still in hand.

"Dean." Sam said firmly. He nodded, indicating the weapon that his clueless big brother was still flaunting.

Dean took in a breath of realization, and hid the gun behind his back, smiling sheepishly.

"Look, we're not here to hurt you, okay? We want to help you." Sam attempted to calm her down, as she stopped trying to escape.

"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice was low, and Dean could barely hear her as the wind picked up.

"Whoa. What? Is this chick serious?" Dean asked, sounding very offended.

"Listen.. listen, what's your name?"

The girl looked down at the ground, and then at her wrist that was still encircled by the stranger's huge hand. She sniffed and rubbed the handkerchief across her nose before sticking into her pocket with her free hand.

"Aubrey." She looked up, and tensed as Dean took a step closer to them. She matched his step and took one back, but knew she could only go so far.

"Okay, look, my name is Sam. And this is my brother Dean." Dean raised his eyebrows and smirked, but the grin died on his lips as the terrified look on her face grew even more.

They all jumped as a semi whizzed past them, inches away from the solid white line.

Sam loosened his hold on her hand as a result, and she seized the opportunity to wrench free with a cry of triumph. But Dean was too quick; he caught her, and drew her in toward him, flailing arms and all. He clumsily passed the shotgun to Sam, and held tight as Aubrey continued to buck against him.

"Hey, hey! Cut it out!" He demanded, and the girl suddenly stopped. He held her against him, with her back against his chest, arms raised and crossed in front of them.

"We're here to help you, alright? So why don't you just calm down?"

Sam's face showed his disapproval, but Dean looked exasperated and shrugged his shoulders to show his helplessness.

"Okay. I'm gonna let you go.. Just don't freak-"

Before he could finish his sentence the girl had raised her knee and swung her foot back to connect with Dean's shin.

"Ah, Fu.. Jesus! What the hell!" Dean exclaimed. He gladly released her, letting her fall a little ungracefully to the gravel road.

She got to her hands and knees, grabbing the bottle as she got up. Frantically she held it in front of her, swinging her arm back and forth between the brothers.

Dean looked at Sam and voiced his confusion, rubbing his sore leg. "Mace?"

Sam shook his head, wearily keeping his eyes on the crazed teenager. "Hairspray."

"What? Dude, what the hell?" Dean raised his voice indignantly, as he straightened.

Sam tried a new approach.

"Look, Aubrey, you asked for our help, remember? You asked us to kill it, do you remember that?"

A look of recollection passed over Aubrey's face as her memory was restored and she thought back to what had started this to begin with.

"Yeah but.. he had a freaking gun! You can't.. You can't just pull a gun on me and expect me to not freak out!"

"Whoa, girly. I didn't pull a gun _on_ you. I was trying to protect you." Dean corrected, a little disgruntled that this was turning into such a mess.

Aubrey's finger pressed down, and sprayed the can in Dean's direction. She wasn't close enough to get it actually on him, but he did take the desired step backwards.

He waved his hand in front of his body, trying to disperse the mist, covering his mouth and nose with his coat collar.

"What do you think is in my car?" She surprised them by sounding a little coherent and like a sane person.

Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Why don't you just tell us what's in your car?" Dean answered the question with a question.

She rolled her eyes, and pursed her lips together, her other hand coming to rest on her hip. Slowly, the hairspray bottle was lowered.

"There was… a spider."

"A _what_?" Dean's forehead crinkled up in disbelief.

"Not a little one! It was like a dime size! And it had _fur_. It started coming at me! And it was black, with little white spots on it and two green spots. Do you know what that means??" Aubrey's sentences were racing together, turning into that secret language that only teenage girls could understand.

Sam tried to stop the smile from hijacking his face, but wasn't succeeding very well.

"Uhh.. yeah it was probably just a garden spider." Sam assured her.

Dean roughly took the shotgun from Sam and stalked towards the car, throwing it into the trunk, muttering the whole way.

"Un-freaking-believable. Freaking kids these days…"

Aubrey brushed off the loose gravel that clung to her knees as a result of her fall, and timidly asked, "Are you sure? I really hate spiders. Like seriously."

"It was probably more scared of you than you were scared of it." Sam reassured with a warm smile.

When Dean rejoined them, Sam was thoroughly checking the Jetta, with Aubrey close behind wielding the hairspray bottle as a weapon. "Just in case."

After it was finally diagnosed "spider free" and safe from all insects and bugs, Aubrey smiled sweetly at Sam and lightly kissed his cheek as a thank you.

She turned her attention to Dean.

"I'm really sorry about your leg. I thought you were going to kill me and use my face as a mask or something."

Sam's face screwed up in concern and a little disgust, while Dean's wore a smirk.

"Any girl who knows her horror flicks is allowed one freebie, in my book. Just try not to let it happen again."

"We're not serial killers." Sam stated, unnecessarily and a little late.

"I bet they all say that." Aubrey counter attacked, with a smile.

"Ha. Well, she's got ya there, Sammy." Dean clapped Sam on the back and clasped his neck.

"So wait. What did you think was in my car? What were you going to shoot?"

The boys shared a look again, and both opened their mouths to reply, competing for the best answer.

Dean won. As usual.

"Snakes! We, uh, we hunt snakes. We're snake hunters." Dean rushed out with a smile and a snap of his fingers, before Sam could reply.

Sam tilted his head and glared at Dean, before erasing it from his face to turn to Aubrey and play along.

The disbelief was clear on Aubrey's face. "You hunt snakes... with shot guns?"

Sam nodded quickly, a tight smile on his face.

Dean continued. "It's not for the money. That might confuse you, but my brother and me, we're just here to help people."

"From all the snakes..?" Aubrey slowly asked the doubt clear in her voice.

Dean just nodded, glancing at Sam for support, but Sam was still smiling his closed lip smile, looking like an idiot for a brother.

Sam cleared his throat to signal that the awkward silence was too much for him and announced their departure. "Yeah, well, uh, we, uh, we better go. It's getting dark and-"

"And we better hurry if we wanna catch that anaconda down in Padre." Dean interrupted.

Sam's face looked ridiculous as he tried to show Dean how appalled he was at his declaration, without letting Aubrey in on it.

"South Padre? An anaconda? Seriously?" Her eyes got wide with awe and Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Drive safe, Aubrey." And with that Sam departed back to the car, shaking his head as he went.

When Dean got back into the impala he had his cell phone in his hand.

"Dude, check it out. I got her number." He bragged.

"So she can, what? Call us if she wants us to take care of some snakes for her?"

"I got a snake she can-"

"God, Dean, stop right there. And what were you thinking? An anaconda in South Padre? They only inhabit certain swamps and rivers in South America."

"Dude, snakes can go anywhere these days. Even planes."

"No they.. what?"

"Hey, I'll believe Samuel L. Jackson over you any day."

Sam shook his head and turned his attention to the map in his lap. Dean got back onto the highway, pulling his seatbelt on.

"So where are we anyway?" Sam changed the subject.

"I dunno, we're on 380 heading..." Dean ducked his head to try to read an upcoming sign. "West."

Dean glanced over when Sam started snickering that annoying little laugh of his.

"What's so funny?"

Sam stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "You wanna know what town we're in?"

"What are you getting at Sam?"

"Aubrey, Texas."

Dean shrugged a shoulder. "So?"

"Don't you think that's a little weird?" Sam egged on.

"Just a coincidence."

"Hey I got an idea. Why don't you call the number she gave you?"

Dean looked over at Sam like he was crazy and pulled out his cell phone.

"Are you questioning my ability to hook up with chicks?" Dean asked, the insult clear in his voice.

Sam shrugged innocently. "I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking it." Dean accused, as he scrolled down to Aubrey's name in his contact list. He brought the phone up to his ear with a confidant look on his face.

And after about 5 seconds, he pulled the cell away from his face like it had burned his ear. Before he could react, Sam grabbed the phone and called the number again, putting it on speaker.

"Sam!"

Dean tried to snatch it back, but Sam held it against the passenger door and swatted Dean's hand away.

A male voice filled the car…

"Hello! This is not the person you were trying to call! You've reached the Rejection Hotline. The person you were trying to call gave you this number because they did not want you to have their real number. We know this sucks. But you'll get over it. Let's review the reasons why you were rejected. Maybe you just weren't this person's type. Which could mean you were boring, annoying, arrogant, or just a general weirdo. Or you could have given off that creepy overbearing stalker vibe that…"

The rest was drowned out from Sam's hysterical laughing and Dean's insistent cursing and promising of sweet revenge.

* * *

Ok, so please be gentle! I know it's not amazing, but I hope you got some enjoyment from it!

So I really have this deathly fear of spiders and I had one such adventure where I was "attacked" by one while driving home from school. As I was on the side of the highway, my emergency lights on, car doors open, I thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be great if I could be rescued by my Supernatural heroes??" So I came up with this little number. Let me know how you liked it. :)


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